My Relationship with My Parents
by Krista Smith
From the very beginning of my relationship to my mother and father, that is from the beginning of my life, my parents made mistakes. They would do all sorts of little things to regret, they were only human, and learning the complicated difficult process of raising children. It didn’t exactly make it easier that they had four children within three years, and then a fifth only three years later. At this point my parents had a five-year-old, two four-year-olds, a three-year-old, and a new born baby to worry about, not to mention the difficulties of a matched marriage and a low income. Just today we were talking to our parents about what an insane time that must have been, and they were telling us how much they would yell at us and then regret their anger almost instantly. My parents were probably stretched so far by the stress and noise and chaos of five young children that they yelled at us more in that crazy time than they do now with four teenagers and a preteen. The funny thing is that when looking back on that time of my early childhood, my parent’s frustration and difficulty with us is not at all what prevails in my memory. What I remember most from that time is an unconditional love and admiration for my parents that I had, especially my mother. In my eyes they were absolutely perfect. Although there were (and are) a lot of us, I don’t remember ever feeling unloved or attention needy, I just recall how in my innocent, childish eyes my parents never did anything wrong.